12:54PM On a typical 89-degree, sunny, humid July day, there’d be 40 people eating their lunches out on this courtyard. Today, it’s gray, cool, and breezy. Chairs and tables are dry. It’s abandoned. I don’t get it.
To me, this is ideal weather for sitting outside. I’m not sweating a lick. Not a spot on me is cold. The rustling of the leaves is calming. This is my normal. The rest of you, you think it’s gorgeous on those July days. I don’t know what is wrong with you.
I know, from years of experience, that no one takes me seriously when I say I actually prefer this weather to that weather.
My problems with the weather are a microcosm of my difficulty finding my place in this sphere. I can’t even present myself authentically during the most banal small talk about the weather without presenting a disconcerting contrary view. To put everyone at ease, I have to lie. Or pretend that the rain is such a downer or that I can’t wait to get outside on a warm, sun-soaked day.
How I experience the weather isn’t merely a point-of-view or a quaint preference. It’s me. But looking around, there is no one else out here. Everyone traversing the courtyard is going from inside one building to inside another building. No one is lingering. It’s…what is It? 60 degrees. It’s not 30.
Since I never blog, I’m very aware that a post like this might play better if I spent time to thoroughly think through what I’m saying, to actually spend some time crafting this. But I haven’t been making the time for that. And I’d be afraid to do that, anyway, because I’d still be unhappy with the result.
Why blog today? Now? Why not the thousands of other times I have something to say, something far more important to say than something about the weather?
Same reason I never do anything I’d like to do. Fear. What if I’m judged? What if I’m dismissed? What if I don’t receive any validation? What if I’m typing into a void?
I am so behind. On everything.
It’s difficult to just start and write when there’s no context for anything I’m writing. You’ve got no context here.
I needed a career change.
I took a couple of grad school classes. Not a bad decision. Didn’t work out like I’d hoped.
Quit job to go to code school. Immense risk taken. But not a bad decision. Hasn’t worked out like I’d hoped.
Got a job doing web development. Some interesting work with good people. I think I was quite productive and learned a lot. But not a good fit. (I am making a conscious decision to be sparse on details but still be authentic).
Got another job doing web development. So far, not a good fit. Learning a lot. Productive? I’ll measure productive like this–what have I done to help anyone else’s job, health, or general well-being? Nothing yet. And that’s the worst feeling for me. I need to be useful. Shouldn’t this be a conversation I should be having with the people I work with? Yes, and I will. Of course I’m being vague here.
Ok, that’s enough damage for one lunch break.